


late nights (and the screen’s too bright to let me sleep)

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Escapism, Flash Fic, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:08:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28808613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: They were used to staying up late.
Collections: Anonymous





	late nights (and the screen’s too bright to let me sleep)

The screen was too bright—it burned their eyes, the sheer white of the light etching itself into their vision. They tense. They only relax when they turn down the brightness to the lowest setting.

On the other side of the room, the clock continued to tick.

It was quiet in the room. They laid on their bed, phone between their hands, scrolling through social media and websites and whatever else kept them up. Youtube, Instagram, Tumblr—anything. Everything.

They’re tired, and they didn’t want to sleep.

Their parents are asleep in the other room. Unless they woke up to use the bathroom, they knew that they’d stay asleep otherwise. The person with their phone, too, laid on their bed, though instead of closed their eyes were trained on the screen in front of them, absorbing the words and images and digital conversations that they had found over the internet.

No one expected much of them this late at night. They were glad for it. They had expectations of themself. Their parents had expectations of them. It was tiring—exhausting even—to put in the effort all the time. To be a good student in school, to get the grades that mattered so little yet so much at the same time.

They scrolled some more, and then exited the app. They headed to Safari—they were too lazy to download the Google app—and pressed on an open tap.

Ah, right. This chapter. Had it updated? They refreshed the page, and the screen went frozen for a moment before it reloaded again.

No, not yet. They were waiting for a new chapter. It was a good story—they’ll get around to bookmarking it on their account sometime in the future.

They opened up all their other tabs and went to another one. They repeated the process, refreshing and waiting. No, this one hadn’t updated either. Instead of tabbing out, they go to the chapter list and select an earlier one in the story. The one had good rereading value—may as well do it while they were there.

It was all too easy to let the world fade into the background. To pretend that the ticking clock didn’t exist, that the time at the top of their screen didn’t read two in the morning and wasn’t stopping. It was even easier to pretend that the dread of classes was nonexistent and that their blissful weekend would be over shortly.

No assignments, no teachers. No need to smile or stay quiet or pay attention to whatever. No parents, no need to get up.

No them being relevant to anything.

Even if it was just for those fleeting hours during the dead of the night, they were content with only focusing on what was right in front of them. A story, a plot—a tale that they could lose themselves to and not worry about anything else.

Sometimes they worried. Was it healthy, to completely disregard reality like this? To pretend nothing was ever wrong in the world? To pretend that they were the only one that ever mattered, even just for a moment, and forget about everyone? About everything?

Did they consider themself selfish for this?

Yes.

Sometimes, they worried.

And sometimes, they didn’t care.

They were tired, but they didn’t want to sleep. They heard a lone car driving on the street outside. Their earbuds laid abandoned on the desk next to them.

How selfish it was to live one’s life vigorously through characters that didn’t exist as real people. How selfish it was to feel as though that you’ve lived more fulfilling lives through a screen with paragraphs of texts as though your real one didn’t do enough— _wasn’t_ enough for that person.

How selfish it was to feel like they were truly happy in fictional worlds that made them feel more loved and safe.

The rational part of themself believed that it wasn’t an ideal way of living. They agreed.

But for now, they were content. For however longer they were allowed this paradise, they wanted to savor it.

They didn’t want to think about it.

Not yet anyways.

**Author's Note:**

> idk, slight vent fic ig. kinda rambled and put my thoughts and feelings on a doc. wanted to share


End file.
